What Are You Selling?

I'm glad I'm not selling anything. I give my JUNK away for free. I just let the tree sway whatever way it wants to. Dogmatism is the way of this world. I know nothing, thus , I make a poor salesman. I believe anything that can be bought=cheap.

"Hey, there Fezzer.....want to buy a HOT-ROD....only $66,000 +tax."
" I don't want your cheap JUNK."
"What do you mean?"
"My "gods" cannot be bought. My cat is one of a kind. My poetry flows from the mint."
" Hmmmmmmm....?"

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Two hours ago I went on a "serenity" ride. I pick up a "troubled" soul and his "minder" and drive them around town. GG gets into the front-seat, Blue-Star gets into the back. I give Blue Star a honeybun,soda, and some chips. I ask GG if he likes Bob Seger. I was listening to live Seger-my summer music.

"No Tim, Seger, Cougar,Tom Petty...all sound the same to me. Do you got any Steely Dan?
"Sure I do. "

I put The Royal Scam on. We drive. He "sells" me on his "philosophy." I remain vanilla. I cannot be "inflamed" by daily topics. I have "transcended." A slap or a tickle tastes the same to me.

I hear a knock on the door. A tall guy and a short gal in business casual rock from foot to foot.
I answer the door with FORCE..........I don't pitty-pat.

'Yeah. What are you selling."
"Nothing."
"Are you trying to save my soul?
"No."

They get confused. I ask again.
"What are you selling. I see a good-cop +bad-cop "act" going on."

The gal asks who is who.

" You are the good cop. This guy "oozes" bad-cop."
The bad-cop tries to break my ice. He looks at my Wildwood tee.
"What section do you go to?"
"I just "borrowed" this shirt. I poured a coffee on my shirt this morning."

They inform me they are trying to save people $ on their energy bills. I tell them we are state-funded;we waste tons of electricity. I tell them that I run my hair-dryer for hours. Why not? It's free. This is "fiction", I prefer "fiction" telling.

It starts pouring. I ask them if they want garbage bags to cover their heads. YES! YES! They pull them over their heads. The girl remarks about the fresh scent. She should sell trash bags door to door. She could wear a Febreze scented one on her head.....................................................

Far, I pound this planet-searching-------what is the key to happiness? Sex?Drugs? R+R?Money?Cars?Prestige? The answer is -------there is no way to win-------this is a test. I have "dabbled." Alittle this+that. What ALWAYS happened? YYYYyyyyyyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwnnnnnnnn. All these thrills+chills wore off.............a rip-off........I then "plugged in." Who did I find? A little human being------------a loser---------tick tock---dying by the second. SO I LAUGHED AND LAUGHED.................I took the off the filter ----my third eye expanded. I now have ENDLESS free highs. LSD without the hangover................Pot without the hack.............Liquid courage without the bad taste. YIPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! The man with no toys wins!Link is the key>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I'm glad I'm not selling anything. I give my JUNK away for free. I just let the tree sway whatever way it wants to. Dogmatism is the way of this world. I know nothing, thus , I make a poor salesman. I believe anything that can be bought=cheap.

"Hey, there Fezzer.....want to buy a HOT-ROD....only $66,000 +tax."
" I don't want your cheap JUNK."
"What do you mean?"
"My "gods" cannot be bought. My cat is one of a kind. My poetry flows from the mint."
" Hmmmmmmm....?"

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Two hours ago I went on a "serenity" ride. I pick up a "troubled" soul and his "minder" and drive them around town. GG gets into the front-seat, Blue-Star gets into the back. I give Blue Star a honeybun,soda, and some chips. I ask GG if he likes Bob Seger. I was listening to live Seger-my summer music.

"No Tim, Seger, Cougar,Tom Petty...all sound the same to me. Do you got any Steely Dan?
"Sure I do. "

I put The Royal Scam on. We drive. He "sells" me on his "philosophy." I remain vanilla. I cannot be "inflamed" by daily topics. I have "transcended." A slap or a tickle tastes the same to me.

I hear a knock on the door. A tall guy and a short gal in business casual rock from foot to foot.
I answer the door with FORCE..........I don't pitty-pat.

'Yeah. What are you selling."
"Nothing."
"Are you trying to save my soul?
"No."

They get confused. I ask again.
"What are you selling. I see a good-cop +bad-cop "act" going on."

The gal asks who is who.

" You are the good cop. This guy "oozes" bad-cop."
The bad-cop tries to break my ice. He looks at my Wildwood tee.
"What section do you go to?"
"I just "borrowed" this shirt. I poured a coffee on my shirt this morning."

They inform me they are trying to save people $ on their energy bills. I tell them we are state-funded;we waste tons of electricity. I tell them that I run my hair-dryer for hours. Why not? It's free. This is "fiction", I prefer "fiction" telling.

It starts pouring. I ask them if they want garbage bags to cover their heads. YES! YES! They pull them over their heads. The girl remarks about the fresh scent. She should sell trash bags door to door. She could wear a Febreze scented one on her head.....................................................

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Mr. Fezz, I think I am beginning to understand a little more. Everything that I read seems to have some sort of end, or action needed. When I read something for work, for example, they want something (they always do). Lots of threads that I read on the MF are about gear, or questions, or perhaps even an event. I guess I read them with purpose, kind of with a set of glasses where I am either learning, or responding in some way. As I have read your posts and threads over time, I was often perplexed. You were not asking for anything, nor did you have something specific that you needed to point out. Alas, I believe I am finally just beginning to understand, my friend! Your post above helped me finally see the light. I don't know what to call it - short stories, poetry, or just a collection of comforting thoughts? But, the window into your world relaxes me, and reminds me of a kinder world, or at least one with a lot less rules and lines. When I was in school, the teacher told us to read Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway. At first, I struggled with his writing. I kept trying to put boxes around things, and group his thoughts in some sequence (well, a sequence that made sense to me, at least). But I always came up short. Over time, I realized that my efforts to box or group his thoughts was what was causing my struggles. I found that if I just let my mind drift and wander as I went through the words, I could go along for the ride and enjoy world through his eyes and mind. I found so much comfort once I finally understood, and now he is one of my favorites. I realized that I can read your stories with this same set of glasses! A snapshot into Fezz. Your story above put a smile on my face and relaxed me. Thank you Fezz!

Mr. Fezz, I think I am beginning to understand a little more. Everything that I read seems to have some sort of end, or action needed. When I read something for work, for example, they want something (they always do). Lots of threads that I read on the MF are about gear, or questions, or perhaps even an event. I guess I read them with purpose, kind of with a set of glasses where I am either learning, or responding in some way. As I have read your posts and threads over time, I was often perplexed. You were not asking for anything, nor did you have something specific that you needed to point out. Alas, I believe I am finally just beginning to understand, my friend! Your post above helped me finally see the light. I don't know what to call it - short stories, poetry, or just a collection of comforting thoughts? But, the window into your world relaxes me, and reminds me of a kinder world, or at least one with a lot less rules and lines. When I was in school, the teacher told us to read Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway. At first, I struggled with his writing. I kept trying to put boxes around things, and group his thoughts in some sequence (well, a sequence that made sense to me, at least). But I always came up short. Over time, I realized that my efforts to box or group his thoughts was what was causing my struggles. I found that if I just let my mind drift and wander as I went through the words, I could go along for the ride and enjoy world through his eyes and mind. I found so much comfort once I finally understood, and now he is one of my favorites. I realized that I can read your stories with this same set of glasses! A snapshot into Fezz. Your story above put a smile on my face and relaxed me. Thank you Fezz!

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Coronado, thank you. I'm a man behind the times. I pound the classics. Looking for answers. What I find is the joys of subtlety and nuance. 2016=ALL PORNO-everything is cheap and harsh. My late Poetry teacher, Stan Heim, told me to live and write with grace+wit+charm---I try to do this.I write from life-80% is "truth?"- the other 20% is Poetry....or was it 8o% Poetry and 20% "truth?"